


there's no winning on christmas

by martainez



Series: how to have joy when christmas is hard [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 13:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martainez/pseuds/martainez
Summary: Phil bought an extra ticket, but Dan just can't follow him home for Christmas





	there's no winning on christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Dan tweeted 'merry christmas' and it made me sad, so I wrote this (because that's what I do when I'm sad apparently)

“I booked an extra ticket,” Phil says as he’s turning off the lights, and Dan has about a microsecond to study Phil’s facial expression before the room turns pitch black. 

It’s not nearly enough time, the darkness of the room leaves Dan alone in bed, as confused as ever. 

“What do you mean you booked an extra ticket?” he asks. There’s a sound of thudding footsteps nearing the bed, and Dan tries his best to locate the face of the dark figure that is his boyfriend. 

The mattress dips, and for a moment the duvet is pulled down slightly, just for it to get pulled back up again. Tighter this time, really enveloping them in the heat of the bed. 

“Yeah, in case- you know,” Phil says, and then there’s an arm pulling Dan closer. And he can’t help but smile, because even though there’s a lot about this situation that’s confusing, there’s still something special with being spooned by his favourite person. 

“I’m not sure I know,” he whispers, (it’s just not right to use your voice’s full strength in complete darkness.)

“In case you’d come with me,” Phil says, but Dan more feels it than hears it because there are lips pressed to his neck, and soft kisses being spilt. 

And Dan finally understands because, of course would Phil buy an extra ticket. A ticket in Dan’s name, just in case he gets his shit together in time for the holidays so he can follow his partner to the one place he wouldn’t hate spending Christmas at. 

”You know I’d never force you to go home with me, but I want you to know it’s an option,” Phil says, he sounds so tired and ready for sleep to pull him away from this world that Dan doesn’t feel the need to give him a real answer. He settles for a simple, tired little sign.

“Yeah.”

-

They’re decorating their Christmas tree, they never got around to do it when it first arrived and now the days are flying by and the big day will be here any moment. 

It’s also a tradition by now, they have decorated their shared Christmas tree together for years. And honestly, it’s a tradition Dan would never want to give up on. You see, decorating the tree makes Phil happy, and making Phil happy makes Dan happy. It’s a win-win situation. 

“This bauble must be ancient by now,” Phil chuckles as he picks up a slightly damaged decoration from the big box that stands between them. It’s white, and one can see that there once was silver glitter scattered evenly all around it, but now it’s flaking and glitter falling right off as Phil sticks it to a branch. 

“Isn’t that the one you stole from your parents?” Dan asks, his voice all warm and fuzzy. This is truly his favourite part of December, the time that he can spend with Phil doing all these festive activities. It takes his mind away from everything he normally dislikes about December - and Christmas particularly. 

“It is,” Phil picks up another bauble and spins it around by its thread, just to get a good look at it. “I needed it for my first personal Christmas tree, you know, to make it feel less-“ he looks at Dan, nose all scrunched up as he tries to find the right word. 

“Lonely? To make it feel more homely?” Dan says. 

“Exactly.” 

Dan nods, all though he doesn’t quite understand. He’s never lived by himself in the meaning that he’s had to have his own tree. And, either way, he would never say that bringing a bauble from his family home would make anything feel more homely. Rather the opposite. It would feel like some sort of home invasion - that it doesn’t belong there. 

He's surprised by how much he dislikes that thought. The thought of mixing his family home with his new home. It makes his stomach tighten, and brows frowning. Because how come Phil doesn’t feel the same. How come he’s almost desperate to get Dan to follow him home for Christmas.

Phil must notice the slight frown on Dan’s face because he grabs the old bauble from the tree and picks it right off. 

“Maybe we should throw it away, it’s ancient after all,” he says, carefully studying Dan’s facial expression. 

“No!” Dan’s quick to respond. Maybe too quick because he almost shouts it, and that does nothing to calm Phil’s worried expression. “No, don’t be stupid. It means something to you,” he tries again, this time calmer. 

“It _meant_ something to me,” 

Dan watches as Phil picks up another bauble, this time one that they bought together at a Christmas market, a few winters ago. He sticks is to the same spot where the ancient one hung earlier. 

“I don’t need old decorations to make me feel at home anymore,” he says and looks at Dan. His eyes are warm, and there’s no denying that it makes the fuzzy feeling creep back up in Dan. 

-

The TV is playing a rerun of last year’s Christmas special of Doctor Who. They’re lying all cuddled up together on the couch, with Dan half on top of Phil, back facing the TV - no doubt half asleep. Phil’s playing with his curls, messing up his already messy hairstyle. 

It’s raining outside - typical London weather - the sound of raindrops creating nature’s own version of a lullaby. It’s peaceful in the rarest way. 

Neither has said a word for a good minute, not since Dan’s grip of Phil’s chest loosened and soft puffs of air started filling the room. But there’s a question painfully nagging in Phil’s head. A question he’s afraid to ask, but desperate to get an answer to. 

He looks down at Dan - asleep; with all of his creases, made by worrying, smoothed out. Would this really be a good time? He knows this question has upset him before, but isn’t this Dan a more grown up and mature version of the Dan from last Christmas? Isn’t is worth trying at least? 

He combs his fingers through Dan’s hair and takes a deep breath. He’s ready to have this conversation now. He’s ready to comfort Dan if it makes him hurt, and cheer with him if everything goes to plan.

“Dan, love,” he says, carefully shaking his shoulder in an attempt to give him a gentle awakening. 

Dan stirs, but doesn’t open his eyes nor respond. 

“We need to talk,” Phil says is a little louder this time.

”Hmm..,” Dan responds, trying to burrow himself deeper into Phil’s chest, as if he was trying to get away from all sounds interrupting his peaceful sleep.

“I’m leaving in two days.” 

He doesn’t have to say more than that, Dan’s fully awake by the time Phil voices the last syllable. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. Slowly he brings a hand up to rub the sleepy dust out of his eyes. 

“Yeah. And you know what I’d like?”

“What?” 

“I’d like for you to come with me.” 

-

Dan never asked for this conversation. Never once in this nine-year relationship did he ask for this conversation, yet it keeps popping up every year. And every year he makes up a rubbish excuse why he absolutely can’t grant Phil’s wish. 

The truth is, there’s no good reason. His family doesn’t need for him to come home, it’s not like he brings anything to the Christmas spirit anyway. He’s practically a grinch at a Christmas party, with all what that means. He doesn’t even want to go home, the only appeal being to snap one of those cute pictures of Collin wearing a festive jumper. 

Though, he can’t go to the Lester’s. He can’t barge in on their hospitality, not when he’ll never be able to return the favour. It would be too selfish. They would think he was ungrateful, and what he feared the most: not worthy of their son. 

“I- I don’t know, Phil,” he says, voice so small it makes him feel like a teenager again. 

“But why not?” Phil says, and he sounds a little too upset for Dan’s liking. He needs to say something, something that makes more sense than the voices in his head. 

“I would just ruin everything, you know, with my mindset and all.”

“That’s bullshit Dan, and you know it,” Phil says as he looks deep into Dan’s eyes. “You love decorating the tree and drinking festive drinks and buying stupid presents. You’re just as festive as I am.” 

God, how much Dan wishes he could just make Phil telepathically understand. He’s right, he loves all of that stuff. But that’s not the same as actual Christmas, that’s just all the preparations with Phil. 

“You don’t understand,” he says, desperation evident in his voice. He looks away from Phil, there are tears threatening to spill, but he won’t let them. He’s not even sad, just frustrated that it’s so hard to make anything clear with all these complicated emotions flying through his head.

“Then make me,” Phil says, and then there’s a hand on Phil’s cheek lifting his head up. Phil’s soft fingers are caressing him and it calms him down just enough for him to gather all emotions and take a deep breath. 

“If I go with you, I’ll never be able to repay the favour. My family don’t do lovely Christmases, with a loving atmosphere, where everyone can feel happy and content. We don’t make your Christmas spirit bloom, we kill it, and then we bury it so deep that I’m afraid you’ll never be able to dig it up again once you’ve had to experience-“

“Dan,” Phil interrupts by wiping his thump underneath Dan’s eye. Sometime in the middle of his explanation, he lost the battle to his emotions and tears started to flow easily down his cheek. “If you don’t want me to celebrate Christmas at your’s, then I won’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come with me, does it?” 

“But it does,” Dan sobs, he’s full on crying now. “It does because I can’t just _get_ and never _give_. People don’t like that, your parents won’t like that.” He lets his voice die down until it’s just barely audible. “And I just want to be liked.” 

Phil pulls him closer to his chest. “Honey, you know they like you. They’ve liked you for just as long as I’ve _loved_ you.” 

Dan’s not sobbing anymore, just quiet tears falling free for a second before Phil catches it with his thumb. 

“They ask for you every year, don’t you understand, they want you there just as much as I do.” 

“Why?” 

“Why? Because you're family to us, and we just want our entire family gathered for Christmas. Is that too much to ask for?” Phil says, and there’s a glimpse of hope in his eyes. 

“Family?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” 

And with that, Dan curls himself a little closer to Phil. Because all of a sudden it all makes sense. Why would he celebrate Christmas with people he never _chose_ to be related to, when he can do it with a family that has nothing to but love to give. 

“I guess I could give it a try,” he says, and he can feel the smile on Phil’s face light up the entire room. 

“You serious?” Phil asks and bends down a little to peck Dan on his forehead, he’s still smiling and Dan can feel a little too much teeth and not enough lips on his skin, but it’s okay.

He can’t help but chuckle a little, and he’s even surprised himself. _That’s a first for this kind of conversation._ It usually ends with him drowning in sad emotions, but now he feels lighter than air. 

“I’m serious.”

And their lips meet in an awkward kiss due to their positions. But it’s perfect in a way that’s rare. 

“I love you,” Dan whispers as they part.

“I’m just happy I bought that extra ticket,” Phil chuckles.  
  
And in the background, the Doctor says something about how amazing it is to have someone you love to spend the holidays with, and Dan can’t help but agree.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or may your December be filled with light and joy. xx


End file.
